


rock the ground

by Waywarder



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe-Fairies, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Inspired by A Midsummer Night's Dream, Shakespeare Quotations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywarder/pseuds/Waywarder
Summary: The war between Titania and Oberon is over (for now) and so two fairies of opposing sides are free to stand together in the forest and consider what might come next.Or: A littleGood Omens/A Midsummer Night's Dreamcrossover Valentine!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	rock the ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CeslaToil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeslaToil/gifts).



_Trip away; make no stay;  
Meet me all by break of day._

And so the fairies did. There, in the newly reunited woods of Athens, the fey of both Oberon’s order and Titania’s order skipped off in the pursuit of the rewards of peace. Of friendship, of unity, of love, at last. 

A storm would come again, this they knew. It always did. Their King and Queen were… what was that lovely expression… perhaps not too “wise” to woo peaceably, but certainly too stubborn. So, in these blissful moments of togetherness, fairies of opposite sides found one another finally.

In fact, in that very moonlit clearing, as the rest of their kindred flitted away at Oberon’s command…

Two fairies remained.

One of Titania’s train, with flood-blue eyes and soft twilight hair. He was the fairies’ storykeeper, much beloved by his Queen for the delicate voice that lulled her to sleep when she was not in the mood for song.

His name was Aziraphale.

The other, in Oberon’s command, stood tall and sharp and wiry like a birch. The ambers and golds and auburns of his eyes and hair spoke to not just the Earth itself, but to what lay underneath. When it came to mischief and questions, he was said to have been Puck’s only true rival.

His name, of course, was Crowley.

They stood for a moment, regarded one another silently. This was part of it, always. After the punishing, lonely times in between. 

_Still? You and I?_

Crowley broke the silence. (He always did.)

“D’you think ‘break of day’ is a hard and fast meeting time?” he drawled, folding his arms across his chest and cocking his hip to one side. 

“What was that?” Aziraphale asked, never not startled by the first note of Crowley’s voice after so much time without it.

“‘Break of day,’” Crowley snorted. “Awfully early wake-up call for the morning after a wedding.”

Aziraphale smiled at that. “And what debauchery do you intend that will keep you up so late, you fiend?”

Crowley laughed, throwing his head back. The crimson waves of his hair caught the starlight and Aziraphale fought the urge to gasp out loud. Crowley walked across the clearing toward Aziraphale now as he spoke:

“Debauchery gets sort of old when it’s in your job description, you know?”

“You poor thing.”

Crowley sighed dramatically. “It’s a real tragedy.”

Crowley came to a halt just a few feet shy of Aziraphale. Aziraphale felt every clever word leaving his clever mind at this proximity to this fire fairy. It was always like this. 

It would always be like this.

 _No,_ Aziraphale admonished himself as a quiet grief rose in his throat. _No sadness tonight._

_Not if it’s all we get._

“What a marvelous thing for the mortals,” Aziraphale breathed. “Those dear lovers, all together with the right person at last.”

“I give it a week,” Crowley grinned, eyes sparkling.

“Crowley!” But Aziraphale laughed as he reached out to swat at his companion’s arm.

Crowley was fast, snake-like. Before Aziraphale could pull his hand back, Crowley’s own hand had darted forward to claim it. Aziraphale did gasp then. Crowley tugged Aziraphale gently to him and they stood together in the forest, chest against chest, looking and breathing at each other.

“How long has it been, my earth?” Crowley asked softly, tracing his thumb lightly over Aziraphale’s hand.

“Since before the changeling,” Aziraphale answered, the words ready and heavy on his tongue. 

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale went on his toes to lean his forehead against Crowley’s. The King and Queen had been at odds for so long. The notion of a fairy… well, fraternizing… with a fairy of the opposing court was entirely forbidden. So, Aziraphale and Crowley had lived off of stolen glances, of little notes and trinkets dared to be delivered by trustworthy forest creatures. (Crowley had something of a report with the local snakes, if you would believe it.) 

“Do you ever…” Aziraphale stopped himself before the treacherous question left his mouth. 

“Probably,” Crowley murmured honestly. “So, you might as well ask me.”

“Do you ever wish we were mortal?” Aziraphale closed his eyes tight, guilt and shame coursing through him. He should consider himself lucky. A fairy of Titania’s court. Her very own storyteller at that! And yet-

“Yes,” Crowley answered, his eyes open in defiance. They had been here before. Crowley made it no secret what he thought of the warring nature of their superiors. If he hadn’t been so quick with a joke here and a clever scheme there, Oberon would have likely discharged him ages ago. 

“And… if we were... what would you?” Aziraphale opened his eyes again, looked deeply into Crowley’s.

“We can, you know,” Crowley whispered. “Just as we are.”

And Crowley concentrated then and Aziraphale felt something cool and solid wind around his finger. When he looked down, there was a ring there. A simple ring made of some brilliantly shining stuff.

“Star matter,” Crowley explained, blushing a little, some of the bravado slipping away. “One of mine.”

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale sighed, twining his fingers with Crowley’s. On Crowley’s hand was, of course, a matching band.

“Would you-” Crowley began.

Aziraphale cut him off with a kiss. 

And so the birds and blooms and serpents and stars of the forest beheld another wedding that night. A quieter, barely spoken affair. 

_Rock the ground_ Oberon had said.

And so they did.

Crowley pulled away just enough to bow to Aziraphale and Aziraphale responded with a deep bow in kind. And there was no music, but they danced all the same. 

They danced and they laughed and they forged a new union that was theirs alone, that no Great Foolish Fairy War Yet to Come could ever break. Crowley spun Aziraphale back to him and leaned forward to capture his mouth in a kiss. Dizzy from dancing, Aziraphale placed his hands on Crowley’s chest to brace himself. Crowley covered his hands with his own and they kissed and they kissed and they kissed.

The break of day was still far off.

_The course of true love never did run smooth._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
